The One to Steal Her First
by JWAB
Summary: Damon takes Elena on a road trip to keep her safe from Klaus, but when they're finally alone, can she continue to justify her fidelity to Stefan? Picks up after 3x18.
1. Chapter 1

**The One to Steal Her First**

_Here's something to tide us over until 3x19..._

Damon had just poured another glass of bourbon when Rebekah stepped inside the house. "I don't have the stake yet. We're working on it. Be patient," he said over his shoulder.

"I'm not here about that," she snarled.

"Well sorry, darling, but I'm not in the mood. Feeling slightly… drained."

"Actually, I'm not here about that either."

Damon turned slowly to face her in the doorway. "Then what do you want?"

"My brother is crazy."

"No argument here," he said before drinking the entire pour in one sip.

"He was mean, and he spoiled my fun. So I'm spoiling his."

"Are you twelve?"

Rebekah crossed her arms, squinting at him. "Don't be a bastard, I'm helping you. He's planning to steal Elena and vanish somewhere you'll never find them, to start working on that ridiculous hybrid army of his. Soon. As soon as he gets that last stake."

"Oh come on," Damon sniffed. "Your grubby little paws were digging around in my mind for hours. Taunting me with my own worries? I'm done with your torture, Rebekah."

"It's true. But if you don't believe me –" She spun on her heels to leave.

Damon rushed up to her and caught her arm. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. I just hate him a little bit more than you right now." She easily pulled her arm out of his grasp and sauntered back into the night.

* * *

><p>Damon wished he didn't have to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, so untroubled, when she slept. But he couldn't waste any time. He snuggled under her covers and put his head next to hers on her pillow. "Wake up, sleepy head.<p>

Elena's eyes fluttered open. "Damon? Seriously?"

He brushed a hair from her cheek. "Seriously, Elena. You need to wake up. And pack."

"Pack? Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but I'm sleeping."

He let her close her eyes again, wishing none of this was necessary. But he knew it was. He kissed her forehead, and her eyes flew open. "We're leaving in ten minutes. You need clothes and a passport."

"No, no way. I can't leave, not now. Not with everything that's happening. We have to find the stake." She rubbed her eyes, reluctantly waking up.

"Bonnie and Stefan are on it."

"And Alaric, he needs me. He needs you."

"Nope, he needs Bonnie. The rest of the gang is worrying about Alaric and the Originals. I'm on Elena duty. Now pack."

"But why now?"

"Precious minutes flying by, Miss Nosey-pants."

"Let's talk about this in the morning."

Damon pulled the covers off. "We have to leave, now. Elena –"

"Damon!" She grabbed at the comforter, but he held it down.

She was infuriating. He spoke slowly through his teeth. "Your welfare is all I care about. Eight minutes, tick tock."

She glared at him a moment and then started to pack.

* * *

><p>Elena slept through the rest of the night, lulled by the roar of the Mustang. As day dawned, the calls started coming, first from Stefan, then Caroline. Damon switched his phone to vibrate and kept driving. Eventually, daylight woke Elena.<p>

She stretched in her seat. "Where are we?"

"Ohio."

She took a deep breath and watched Damon drive. He could feel her eyes on him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Why are we in Ohio?"

"Because I am an expert at highway driving." Damon smirked at her and she smiled, in spite of herself.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on."

He reached across the seat and took her hand. It would be so much simpler if she would just let him keep her safe. But she deserved to know, and they were far enough away now that she might not ask him to turn back. "Klaus was coming for you, but I stole you first."

She had begun to pull her hand back at the mention of Klaus, but stopped, leaving it laying lightly over his.

* * *

><p>It had been dark for a few hours when Damon finally parked in front of a large Victorian inn in Lincoln, Nebraska. They had been driving nearly non-stop since the middle of the night before, and even he was too tired to go on any longer. He carried their bags up the walk to the front door.<p>

"Don't eat any of the guests, okay?"

Damon pretended to be hurt. "Who do you think I am, Elena?"

She knocked on the door and a sweet-looking elderly man opened it.

"Is this your establishment, sir?" Damon asked, the picture of politeness.

"Yes, please come in."

Damon flashed a grin at Elena and motioned for her to enter first. After a quick compulsion, they had the top floor to themselves. Elena followed Damon up the stairs.

* * *

><p>There were two queen-sized beds against the far wall. Damon heard Elena sigh with relief. He set their bags down as Elena took out her phone. "I have a million messages. What am I supposed to tell them?"<p>

"Don't tell them anything," he said as he stacked their bags in the corner.

"Damon, I can't just run away like this."

"Clearly you can, because you did and everything's fine back home."

"How do you know?"

"Because if they're texting you, they aren't dead."

Elena rolled her eyes but couldn't disagree. Damon pulled his own phone out of his jacket pocket and flicked through the messages. There was one for both of them, from Stefan.

Elena noticed at nearly the same moment. "There's one from Stefan. 'I was right. I still love you both.'"

Damon shifted on his feet, the familiar jealousy rising to the surface. "Of course, Stefan has to remind you he loves you, in case you forgot about him for two seconds. Plus a bonus guilt trip just for me. Thanks, bro." He glanced at Elena, whose gaze had wandered to the window. "But what was he right about? I don't remember him having, well, any right ideas lately. I mean, even the way he saved me was pretty wrong. Not that I'm complaining, but did he have to tell them about the stakes?"

Elena's voice was quiet as she turned to face him. Her eyes were suddenly soft and serious. "He was right about me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Stefan thinks that I have feelings for you."

Damon froze as his heart leaped in his chest. He hated that he continued to hope, after so many disappointments with this girl. He shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. He swallowed carefully and faced her. "Do you?"

She hesitated, her eyes pleading with him to take back the question.

"Never mind," Damon murmured. Would he never learn to protect his heart? His love for her was the problem, she had said it herself. He couldn't expect her to love him back. And this was going to be a long road trip if he didn't shut down his feelings, fast. He turned away from her, but she grabbed his arm and turned him back.

"Damon, wait." He looked into her eyes, watching the recognition dawn on her that she had arrived at a turning point. "I don't know. It's not the same. With Stefan it was so clear and easy. But with you, it's…. I can't control how I feel. I've tried. I mean, you're unpredictable, controlling, vicious –"

"I get it," he muttered.

"No, Damon, you don't. Because, in spite of everything, I don't think I can deny how I feel about you anymore."

Damon couldn't speak. Elena slid her hand up his arm, onto the side of his face. Still as a statue, he savored the warmth and the delicate pressure of her hand. Her gaze drifted to his lips, and his to hers, and then he felt her pulling him toward her. He bent his head, almost imperceptibly, as the fingers of her other hand unfurled in his hair.

Their lips came together, for a moment softly, and then with a passion Damon had only imagined from Elena. His arms encircled her, one hand grasping at her lower back, another in her hair, twisting her head to yield more exquisitely to his kiss. She curved her body into his, humming with delight. He licked along her top lip and heard her heartbeat quicken.

"Damon…"

A low, sensual growl started deep in his throat as he tightened his hold on her.

"Stop."

He paused, unable to tear his gaze from her lips.

She shook her head. "It's more complicated than that. We can't."

"You have to be kidding me."

"Think of what this would do to Stefan. I know you don't want to hurt him. I don't either."

"Don't use Stefan as an excuse. This is about you and me," Damon said, pulling away.

"He's your brother!" She took a sharp breath in, pain in her eyes.

Damon sighed and let go of her. He waited for her to continue, but she just shook her head again. He began to pace as she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. "So it's always going to be Stefan, and only Stefan, because… what? He got to you first? I can't live with that."

She stared at the ground. "Right now, it's the only thing that seems fair."

"Fair?" His voice rose in anger. "This, Elena, this whole situation is not fair! You, so close to me, if you want me even a tenth of how much I want you… but somehow Stefan can still come between us. Do you have any idea what this has been like for me? I've been pining for you like a school girl!" He couldn't look at her. "It kills me to know what we could have, what we could be, and you still choose Stefan. Even after he all but gave us his blessing."

"What?" Elena blinked in confusion.

"I still love you both. Don't you see? He assumes we've already slept together, and it doesn't change how he feels about us. It's classic Stefan. He said that because if the roles were reversed, he would have done the same."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. He did it with Katherine." The echo of old jealousy came over him in an instant.

Elena seemed to bristle at the mention of her name. "I'm not Katherine."

She was missing the real point, stubbornly focusing on the surface issues. Damon could barely contain his frustration. "I need some air."

"You're leaving?" she asked, incredulous.

"Don't go anywhere." He stared her down. "Or do. I don't know, Elena." He slammed the door behind him on the way out.

* * *

><p>Elena was pretending to be asleep when he got back after midnight. Most of his anger had melted away after some bourbon, some blood, and a long walk. He silently slipped off his boots and jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her watching him. He pretended not to notice and stifled a grin. When he turned toward her, her eyes were closed again. He didn't even consider climbing into the other bed.

He sat down on top of the covers and leaned back onto the pillow, his arm behind his head, watching her. Her hair was still wet.

"You shouldn't have left. You promised," she whispered with her eyes still closed.

His voice was barely audible. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

He grinned and reached down with his right hand to hold hers, lightly stroking her skin with his thumb. She purred. He warned himself to remain cautious, not to give in to his hope, but it was impossible. The idea that she cared for him made him feel reckless. He brought her hand up to his chest, then let go to reach around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head, savoring the sweet smell of lavender in her hair.

She sighed into his shoulder. "You were right. I can't stand in the way any longer. It's not fair to you… and it's not fair to me." She pulled his shirt aside and kissed his chest lightly. She turned her face up to his and for the first time he didn't doubt the love he saw in her eyes. "Damon, forgive me."

Damon pulled her face close and kissed her the way he'd wanted to since they first met. Their lips fit. All of the devotion he had tried to hide away he finally unleashed. His hands were on her face, in her hair. He rolled her onto her back, wishing he had the patience to kiss up and down her entire body. Elena returned his kisses with equal urgency and soft, gentle murmurs of enjoyment. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and dropped it on the floor, then took the lead until she was straddling him. He watched, smirking, as she unzipped his jeans, leaving kisses in their wake.

When she was done, he sat up and took off her camisole, delighted to find she was wearing the lacy red boy shorts he had admired before their last road trip.

"I almost don't want to take them off of you. Almost."

In a flash, they were off.

Elena was breathtaking, kneeling before him on the bed. After all of her refusals, her rejection, her fear and hesitation, she somehow finally wanted him. Despite what he was. She raised her hands to his neck, vulnerability in her eyes. Was she nervous? Could she actually imagine that he would change his mind? He seized her face and pressed his lips to hers. She gasped and smiled against his mouth. Damon breathed in her delicious scent. This magnificent creature had chosen him. His knees expertly lifted her, rubbing and then opening her legs. He tasted her warm skin, his tongue drawing a trembling line along her collarbone and up her neck. She shivered. They moved in rhythm, his hips against hers. He bent her back and took the hard peak of one breast between his teeth, then licked around it. She hissed, digging her nails into his skin.

He had only hoped it would be like this. Her capacity for abandon was astonishing. She pulled him back onto the bed, between her legs, and there was no question that she was ready for him. He wanted to be careful, to enter her gently, to prove he wasn't always a brutal monster, but she grabbed his waist and lifted her hips to surround him. He kissed her deeply, moving his tongue slowly along hers as he felt her wrap her long legs around his thighs. Within moments, they succumbed to the inevitable rhythm.

Soon she began to whisper his name, like a mantra, over and over again, louder and louder. He cradled her head in his hands and watched her, her head thrown back, her mouth open and inviting, as she came. The contractions drew him along with her.

Damon kissed her lips.

"You know I love you," Elena hummed.

"I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**The One to Steal Her First**

_Well, I couldn't stop thinking about this, so here is a bit more. And I think, probably, there's more to come. Thanks to all who reviewed - you are wonderful! - and to CreepingMuse, my incomparable beta-reader and one of my very favorite authors here!_

**Chapter 2**

Damon barely slept. His mind was racing. He figured they only had another day, two at the most, before Klaus realized she was gone. But then, Rebekah could shift her alliance back to Team Klaus in an instant. They weren't safe. Elena wasn't safe.

He lay in the dark, his eyes wide open, plotting their next move and tapping his fingers impatiently against his hipbone while he waited for the dawn.

At 6, he showered and dressed. By 6:15, he couldn't wait any longer. "Elena, we should go."

She moaned and pulled the pillow over her face.

"Up and at 'em." He stifled the impulse to wrap his arm around her midsection. How would she react? He settled for taking her pillow.

"You suck at road trips," she grumbled, draping her arm over her eyes.

He smiled indulgently at her. "No, I am awesome at road trips. You suck at mornings. Stefan did not mention this to me."

"No talking about Stefan until I have coffee."

"Fine, but we're on the road before 7. It's not all about red undies, you know. We have things to do. Number one: outrun a life of blood slavery."

She rolled out of bed. She had managed to find her lacy red boy shorts amid the twisted sheets before falling asleep, but was wearing nothing else. Damon's eyes misted over when she turned toward him.

"Don't I get any privacy?" she pouted.

Damon glowed with adoration. "No one as beautiful as you should ever have any privacy at all."

She climbed back onto the bed and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. "Now get on that coffee or grumpy Elena wins."

* * *

><p>Damon came up the stairs with a cup of coffee in each hand. He heard Elena's voice, and through the phone, Stefan's, and stopped just outside of their barely open door.<p>

"How's Alaric?"

_"Bonnie's redone the spell and Caroline won't let him out of her sight."_

"And the stake?"

_"No sign of it yet, but... Elena -"_

"Stefan, don't."

_"I just - I miss you."_

Damon heard her inhale slowly. "I miss you, too."

He couldn't stand to hear anymore. He blustered through the door, his studied smirk in place. "Who wants coffee?"

Elena fumbled at her phone. "I have to go." She hung up and made a point of stashing her phone deep in her purse, as far away as she could put it.

Damon reached out and handed her a cup of coffee. "Did he call you or did you call him?"

"I, um, I called him." He had to give her credit for not even trying to hide her guilt. "Damon, I know, but I'm so worried about them, I needed to know they were okay." She looked painfully apologetic. Damon wanted to be angry with her but couldn't.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to chastise her for possibly giving away their location. But instead, he comforted her. "I know this is hard for you. You have to trust that they can take care of themselves. It's time for someone to take care of you, for once." He put down his coffee and took her in his arms. "Did you tell Stefan where we are?"

"No." She melted into his chest and let him hold her. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed the feeling of her arms wrapped around him.

"Good. Are you ready to go?" He kissed her hair, the smell of lavender now mixed with the delicious sweetness that was pure Elena.

She looked into his eyes and he felt the last droplets of hurt over her phone call fall away. "I didn't call Stefan because I regret what happened with us. You know that, right?"

"I do now."

"Because I don't regret it for a second. It's not why I called." The way she squinted slightly, Damon knew there was something she wasn't saying.

"But?"

She began to shake her head, ready to deny it. Damon narrowed his eyes at her, and she wilted against him. "I do miss him, I admit it. And I'm not sure what's going to happen when we get back. If we get back. I don't want to lose you, Damon, but I don't know how to do this, with Stefan and you and -" Her eyes glistened with the beginning of tears.

Damon shushed her gently. "I know. Don't worry." He drew a feather light line along her chin with his finger and tilted her head up toward him, capturing her deep brown eyes in his gaze. "We'll just have to make the most of the time we have alone together." She sighed with relief as he wove his fingers into her hair and drew her lips into a tender kiss. "But part of that has to be keeping you away from the Big Bad Wolf, so let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

* * *

><p>Omaha International Airport had all of the trappings of a real airport with none of the enticing destinations. Damon stood at the ticket counter, Elena by his side, as the agent rattled off flight after full, unavailable flight. They were getting nowhere.<p>

Elena leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Can't you just compel her?"

Damon feigned shock. He leaned back and buried his lips in her hair, surrounded by her scent. "You would have me do something unethical?" he breathed. "Elena, I'm stunned."

When he drew back to watch her reaction, he was rewarded with the most glorious flush.

"Fine." He turned to the agent, making deliberate eye contact. "Two first class to Frankfurt. I insist." The agent's demeanor softened as she repeated the request back to him, then made the necessary changes.

Elena whispered into his ear again, sending flickers of heat across his skin. "Germany? Really?"

He captured the attention of the agent again. "And a connecting flight to Florence, Italy."

Damon wound his arm around Elena's waist while they waited for their tickets.

* * *

><p>Elena stared out the window, her hand clutching Damon's, as the rest of the passengers boarded the plane.<p>

"Relax. We're going to be here a while. And I might need my hand. You know, at some point."

"Okay," she mumbled, her body still bristling with tension, her grip on Damon as strong as ever.

"Why didn't you tell me you were scared to fly?"

"I'm not."

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Or?"

She exhaled a trembling sigh. "Damon, I'm not going to ruin your escape plan because I can't handle being stuck in a giant, heavy, metal box improbably soaring through the sky over an enormous ocean." Elena bounced her knee frantically.

Damon turned her face toward his. "Elena, stop. It's going to be fine. Trust me."

"If you were flying the plane, I'd feel better."

He smiled in spite of himself. "Let's trust the pilot, too. We'll be there before you know it. You're going to love Florence."

* * *

><p>The sheer persistence of Elena's anxiety was impressive. Half way through the flight she was still rigidly bouncing her knee, still staring out the window, still clutching his hand. The scotch he had requested for her hadn't made a dent, although the three he had downed certainly made it easier to be understanding.<p>

He heard her whimper quietly and couldn't stand it anymore. He slapped his thigh. "That's it."

"What's it?"

"You have to relax. Drastic measures are called for."

She tore herself from the window for a moment. "No, Damon, I don't even really like scotch -"

He smirked and half-closed his eyes flirtatiously. "That's not what I was thinking."

She squinted at him. "What were you thinking?"

Damon slowly licked his lip, then raised his voice dramatically, "You're hurt! Are you bleeding? Here, let me help you into the bathroom."

"What? I'm not -"

He flicked her seat belt open and pulled her up to standing. She shot him a suspicious look as he manhandled her toward the bathroom door.

"Watch it, caveman," she muttered over her shoulder.

"No need to thank me, I'm just here to help." He reached around her waist and pushed the accordion door open, pressing into her back to usher her into the tiny lavatory and then latching the door behind them.

Elena glared at him under the harsh fluorescent light. "What -"

He shook his head with a smirk. "No more talking." He slipped his fingers under her hair and around the nape of her delicate, warm neck, drawing her into his commanding kiss. She was his, he could feel it. She sighed as his hands stretched over her lower back, squeezing her against his hips. His hands roamed her body with reassuring pressure, letting her know he was in control. He could feel the tension melting away, replaced with awakening desire.

Soon his right hand slipped inside the front of her jeans, his knowing fingers headed right where he knew she needed them. She gasped. "Damon, we can't!"

He reared back his head. "You don't get to talk until you stop saying crazy things." With that, he slipped his middle finger further and dipped it inside her. She took a trembling breath as he felt her move closer, ever so slightly encouraging him deeper. His blue eyes blazed into hers as he pulled out again and, using her slick wetness, began to twirl devastatingly slow circles around her swollen nub. He saw her eyelids flutter and her head fall back as she let him take charge. Watching this girl come was his favorite thing in the entire world, without a doubt.

He repositioned his hand, letting his thumb wind continuous circles while he inserted two fingers inside her. Elena swayed on her feet. She was close. "Damon."

His voice rasped. "Don't tell me stop, Elena. You don't want me to stop."

"I want you to -"

Damon's mouth dropped open. The idea of hearing her tell him exactly what she wanted lit him on fire. "Yes?"

"I need you inside me."

The air rushed out of him and he pounced on her lips. His hands rushed to unzip her jeans and pull them down, then lift her onto the small lavatory counter. He unzipped his own fly and her hand was on him immediately, guiding him home. He grabbed her hips, steadying them both as he slid into her. She groaned, bracing herself against the walls so she could strain toward him, enveloping him in moist, tight heat. It was everything he could do not to explode inside her instantly, watching the rapture on her face as he filled her again and again.

And then a different kind of whimper escaped from deep in her throat, full of urgency. He licked along the side of her neck, the tantalizing scent of blood just beneath the surface, and she came. He panted at the sensation of her muscles clenching around him and tumbled after her, his head buried in her hair, his breath sending shivers across her flushed, sensitive skin.

* * *

><p>When they were dressed again, he stroked her cheek. "Feeling better?"<p>

"Yup."

"Ready to go back out there?"

She took a deep, calming breath. "Yup."

"Okay, you first." He patted her on the butt as she inched her way around him and out the door.

Damon gave her a few seconds before he followed her. He was contentedly readjusting his shirt and pants as he walked down the center aisle, so it wasn't until he heard Elena's raspy whisper that he knew something was wrong.

She was frozen in the aisle. Someone was sitting in her seat.

"Elijah."


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh my, Elijah is fun to write... This chapter has some much needed plot, but more delicious (non-balcony, but still hot) steaminess lies ahead. Hope you enjoy!  
><em>

**Chapter 3**

In one motion, Damon swept Elena behind him and stepped in front of her, blocking her from the disturbingly calm Original seated blithely by the window.

"What are you doing here?" Damon growled, one hand reaching behind him to hold Elena's hip.

"Feeling better, Elena?" Elijah cooed over Damon's shoulder.

Damon felt Elena wrap her fingers around his arm and squeeze. He couldn't let anything happen to her, this girl he loved with his entire heart. And here, for all intents and purposes alone in this confined space, he had no back up. He was all she had. What had he been thinking? How could he have made this mistake?

Elena's voice was low and thick behind him. "Are you going to take us back to Klaus?"

Elijah allowed the barest grin, just for a moment, and gazed out the window. "I shouldn't expect you to trust me after everything that's happened, Elena."

"Damn right." Damon shifted aggressively on his feet.

"But you see, I have no intention of handing you over to my brother." Elijah lifted Elena's still full glass of scotch to his nose, swirling and sniffing it. "However, your escape would complicate my plan."

"Good," Damon spat.

"Elena," Elijah continued, ignoring Damon's anger, "why don't you sit down and we can discuss this?" He patted the seat next to him.

"Not a chance." Damon stepped backward, pushing Elena further away down the narrow aisle.

"Damon. It's okay. You'll be right here." Her hand came to rest at the tender spot where his shoulder met his neck, squeezing slightly to reassure him. "Don't worry."

Damon turned slowly toward the stunning girl whose face always threatened to lead him down the rabbit hole into his past. Her eyes were pleading with him to let her trust Elijah. He pursed his lips, willing her to understand how perilous an alliance with this Original would be. He shook his head. She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and kissed his lips lightly. Pulling away, she nodded. He couldn't deny her what she wanted – he was beginning to understand Stefan's weak will where she was concerned – and they were stuck on an airplane, after all. As long as he never let her out of his sight, it wouldn't be so much a matter of trusting Elijah as allowing him limited access. It was, he figured, a small concession, and one he could afford.

Damon sniffed at Elijah, but gave Elena room to slide into the aisle seat. In a flash, he compelled the man seated across the aisle to take an extended pass through the plane, and took his seat. "Okay then, talk."

Elijah smiled indulgently at Damon and then turned subtly toward Elena. "I find myself in a difficult position. We share common enemies in my brother and mother, and while I will always remain devoted to my sister, I acknowledge she can be… unpredictable."

Damon rolled his eyes.

"However, it has become clear that they must not be killed outright, but rather neutralized, such as Mikael was for the last fifteen years. So while you were otherwise engaged, I secured the assistance of another Bennett witch."

Elena head tilted in confusion. "Another Bennett?"

"Lucy," Damon whispered.

Elijah leaned back, peering out the window. "She has everything she needs to do the spell, except you."

"No." Damon was standing in a flash, his hand wrapped gently around Elena's arm.

Elena exhaled slowly. "Of course. Abby did the spell on Mikael when I was a baby. She was my mother's best friend."

"It seems the doppelganger is an essential component of vampire magic. My apologies for the inconvenience," Elijah said, taking a swig of Elena's scotch.

"What do I have to do?" Elena asked.

"Absolutely not," Damon growled, his grip on Elena tightening.

"Damon, let go. It's okay." Her doe brown eyes begged him, and behind their intent was a deep weariness that threatened to break his heart.

He wished he could take this burden from her. For the thousandth time, he envisioned turning her, certain that it was the smartest thing to do, that it was in fact the only way to keep her safe. But all of the reasons why he shouldn't – to protect the lives of all those she loved, to safeguard her human future, and countless other small, important things – restrained him. He sniffed and reluctantly let go of her, clutching the top of the seat instead. "Can't you just take her blood back to Mystic Falls? Why do you need the whole – her?"

Elijah smiled and shook his head. His calm exterior didn't fool Damon for a moment; he knew there was the potential for devastation just under the surface. "Elena must be there. She is the vessel. Klaus has to drink from her."

Damon felt the growl erupt, fierce and primal, as he lunged for Elijah's throat. In a blur he was bent back against the window, Elijah's fingers delicately cupping his heart inside his chest.

"Damon, I suggest you rethink your opposition to my plan."

"Let him go. I'll do whatever you ask. Just please, please! Don't hurt him!" Out of the corner of his eye, Damon could see Elena's face contorting in horror and desperation.

Elijah squeezed. Damon winced and grunted, stifling a full-throated moan.

"Elijah! It's my decision. Not his. I'll do it. Just let him go. Now."

Elijah turned his head skeptically at Elena, an eyebrow raised.

"If he dies, I die, and then you're all fucked."

Damon felt the sickening sensation of Elijah's fingers withdrawing from his ribcage, and then the ache of blood rushing to his cracked sternum, beginning immediately to mend it. He watched Elena heave a deep sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>Having extracted Elena's pledge of cooperation, Elijah placed two return tickets, leaving first thing the next morning, in her hand. He left them alone for the rest of the flight.<p>

Damon sat in silence beside her, thinking through their next steps and looking for a way out. He knew Elijah would hold them to this. They would spend the night in some hotel adjoining the Frankfurt airport and be greeted by him first thing in the morning, escorted like criminals to the gate and onto the plane.

He needed details about the spell. He needed the assurance of someone who really knew and cared about Elena that she wouldn't be harmed, at least not beyond being fed on for hopefully only a few seconds. The trust Elena had in Elijah was infuriating, considering he had betrayed all of them at the quarry and used her as a pawn so recently.

Damon licked his lips, wishing he could get a bottle of Bourbon here that was bigger than a toy.

Elena rustled in her seat, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes cast down at her knees, absorbed in her own thoughts. He was lucky she was so trusting. When he thought of how many times he had hurt her, had angered her, had streamrolled her priorities in the name of keeping her safe, and still she trusted him and even loved him… luck didn't begin to capture his good fortune.

And Elijah listened to her. They had something… an understanding. He respected her.

It came back to him in a rush. He had been on the brink of death and hadn't really heard what she had said that had saved him. Now, suddenly, he remembered it.

"If I die, you die?" The words felt raw in his throat.

Elena raised her eyes, meeting his look of astonishment with something soft and loving. "Yup."

"Elena, what were you thinking?"

She blinked, shaking her head. "I wasn't, really. It was just true. I had to stop him."

"That was a pretty serious game of chicken, Elena."

"It wasn't a game. I've been sitting here thinking about it. In that moment, it was suddenly so clear. Seeing you like that, your life – your whole life – literally in his hand, I couldn't face it. I couldn't face a future without you. I just knew."

Damon's face was slack.

Elena continued. "I've been trying to figure out my feelings even as they were changing. I was trying to be faithful to Stefan and not give in, telling myself it was just because you were so gorgeous, or charming, or –" She exhaled a gentle laugh but wouldn't look at him. "But it's definitely not just lust, or gratitude, or infatuation, Damon. I think I didn't know how to recognize it because I haven't felt it before."

"Don't say that. You love Stefan, I know you do."

"I do. So I don't know what to call this. Maybe it's more than love. I just can't imagine my life without you. If you die, I die."

Finally, she raised her eyes to his. They were wide and vulnerable, honest and imploring. Damon lifted his hand and slid his fingers along her jawline to the nape of her neck. He pulled her toward him and placed the softest kiss he could muster on her perfect lips. She deserved nothing less.

His voice was all air and intensity, cool whispered breath in her ear. "I can't live without you either, Elena."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

(Well, I had to make a few adjustments to the current situation, so here's how this story is veering away from our S3 truth: with Elena away, there's no Evilaric, and Klaus isn't desiccated yet because in this story Bonnie can't do it alone.)

Damon stared out the window at Elena, who was strangely calm on the balcony of their Frankfurt hotel room, watching the planes take off and land. She had been the one to call Stefan, but within moments handed the phone to Damon, tears running down her cheeks.

The call was hard, without a doubt. Stefan reported in clipped phrases that everyone was still alive, even if Klaus was enraged and unpredictable. Damon suggested he placate him by taking him out for a boys' night of jugular beverages, pretending to be his friend again, but Stefan's harrumph shut him up. Bonnie was looking for the old desiccation spell and Caroline and Tyler were watching over a steadily healing Alaric. Then Stefan said something Damon had never expected to hear.

"You were right to leave with her."

Damon stopped pacing but couldn't respond with anything but a rush of breath.

"Thank you for keeping her safe."

He shook his head. He didn't deserve Stefan's gratitude; it had been such a selfish act. "Brother, I didn't do it for you."

"I know. But thank you just the same." There was a heavy pause. "How is she?"

Damon glanced at her still form, guessing at the emotional whirlwind inside her mind. _How do you think she is? She's a mess! She's going home to probable death, she's wracked with guilt, she's putting her trust in disturbingly attractive Originals with dubious nobility…_ "She's holding up all right," he muttered unconvincingly.

"Look, when you get back, I'll leave. I can be gone before you hit the driveway. I don't want to cause her more trouble -"

Damon had considered it dozens of times himself. But he knew it would break her heart if Stefan left. "That's not what she wants. She loves you."

"She loves you, too."

"Yes, apparently she does. But you can't make her choice for her and neither can I."

"It's going to be Katherine all over again."

Damon sighed, realizing how much he had come to understand about their triangle in such a short time. "No, it won't, Stefan. Elena's love for both of us – it's not about manipulation, or power. You know this better than I do. It's real, open-hearted love. She may choose you – you're certainly less of a challenge. Who knows, maybe she'll choose me. But I know for a fact that if you leave, you will shatter her heart."

There was a long silence, but Damon could hear the clink of fingernails on crystal. "Fine. I'll stay. But -"

Damon rolled his eyes. "But what?"

"But I don't think I can watch you kiss her."

He spun his daylight ring around his middle finger, remembering the excruciating hours he spent just down the hall from the two of them making love. "Man up, little bro. You get used to it."

* * *

><p>Once he coaxed Elena inside again, Damon drew a bath for her and filled it with bubbles and rose petals. If they couldn't have Florence – not right now anyway, he reminded himself, but someday, perhaps – then he would make the most of this spartan suite by the airport. She made a show of declining, but soon enough had climbed into the warm, inviting water. He wanted to climb in with her, let her lean back against his chest, while he slowly washed away the pain and anxiety and fear that seemed to cling to her like a veil. But he gave her her space and when she closed the door between them, her eyes red and swollen, he didn't even pout.<p>

He ordered food but she didn't touch it. She stayed in the terrycloth robe, her hair left carelessly to dry in thick ropes. She was distant. She barely spoke. Damon was desperate to find a way to bring her some sort of comfort, but nothing made a dent. The food, the bath… she wouldn't touch the bourbon, no surprise. She sat nearly immobile, one hand wrapped around her knees, the other aiming the remote at the television as she flipped through channel after channel in German.

"We have to get up in six hours. I'm going to bed," Damon finally said, defeated and worried. He pulled back the sheets, tugging at the spot where Elena held them in place. She didn't move. "You need to sleep."

She spoke in a monotone. "I'm going to die when we get back to Mystic Falls."

His heart sank. She was always on the brink of death. Calamity followed her like a lost puppy. But he wanted to comfort her. It seemed kinder to disagree. "You're not."

"You know it's true. Elijah is going to betray me for Klaus – again – and I am going to die. Or Elijah will kill me to keep me from making more hybrids. Or Rebekah will. Or Alaric will go crazy and kill me. Or you, or Stefan, or Caroline. I'm going to die, Damon. You can't fight it. And you can't stop it."

"Damn well I can fight it, Elena."

"I'm not going to be able to sleep."

Damon lay down next to her on the bed and pulled her back so that her head was cradled on his shoulder, against his chest. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Elena pushed back hard against his chest, pressing herself up and then off the bed. She leaned her back against the wall, kicking her heel at it in irregular time. "Fucking vampires," she spat.

"Excuse me?"

"Shut up. Just shut up. Stop trying to make me feel better. This all started when Stefan came to town. Yeah, it was all bunnies and decade dances back then, but vampires eat people, for fuck's sake! Him too. You all do. You use people for food, entertainment, just to be a sack of meat to fuck. Honestly, Damon!"

Damon's breath caught in his throat. After everything, was she finally breaking down?

She blustered on, oblivious to his mask of worry. "It's not okay! You can't pardon it or explain it away. And me, moronic, hormonal, trusting me, I let you all in. Everything that happened to everyone that I love, it was because I trusted him, and I trusted you, and now I'm trusting Elijah who already betrayed us once -"

He couldn't resist. "To be fair, you betrayed him once too, so you're even -"

Elena slammed her fist against the wall. "Shut up! You are not helping!" She took a deep, shaking breath but couldn't meet his gaze, as much as he hoped he could calm her with a look. "It's not fair, Damon. It's just not fair." Her voice began to tremble.

"I know," he breathed.

One tear fell, then another. She wiped her nose impatiently. "Why does everyone else get a life, a life with college and a human fucking husband and kids and grandkids and no fucking vampires? Why did this have to happen to me?"

She was shaking now, sobbing, taking in heaving, hysterical breaths. Damon slid toward her off the bed, not sure whether he expected to catch her or hold her. He reached out, his arms surrounding but not touching her.

"Don't." She stiffened, violently wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Elena…" What could he say? That he was sorry? He was exquisitely, painfully sorry, but it didn't change anything. That it was going to be okay? They both knew it wouldn't. That he was here for her? Him, the very thing she hated and blamed for the destruction of her future? He was helpless. But he was all she had.

"What?" she threw back at him, like a challenge.

He braced himself for her anger, making a first feeble attempt. "If I could take all of this away – including myself – to make it better, I would. In a second."

"Whatever." She started kicking the wall again. He could tell it was not a good sign.

"Please." Feeble attempt number two, Damon tallied: totally useless and unspecific begging.

"Will you finally just shut up?"

"Elena -" But he couldn't finish. She launched herself at him, smashing her mouth violently against his. He was caught off guard, falling back onto the bed as she ripped apart his shirt, buttons flying, nails scraping at his skin.

He knew what this was. He'd been there before, with Rebekah, with countless others. He recognized rage sex immediately, though he was surprised to see it from Elena. He resolved in that moment, immediately, to let her take out all of her anger on him. Do your worst, he thought. I'm here, I'll absorb all of it and let you heal. Give it to me.

She threw his hands off of her, refusing the familiar, tender feeling of his palms against her neck. Her robe was at her feet now, and under it she was naked, all fierce muscle and hard bone. He heard her growl, low and totally uninhibited, as she tore at the fly of his jeans. The fabric strained and tore as she yanked them off of him.

Damon had never once seen her like this. Anger pulsed through her body, flushing her skin and darkening her deep brown eyes to a flinty black. Pale patches covered her clenched hands where the skin strained against bone. Hatred, of him, of what he represented, of tomorrow, flowed through her – he could practically feel it, smell it. He wouldn't protect himself. He was completely vulnerable as she stood before him, ready to attack. And then she was on him, straddling him, crushing against him and forcing him into her with all of her strength.

This was one of thousands of moments when Damon had been exactly what she needed, and he knew that, on some higher level of thought, she felt it. But right now, strength equaled power and here, in this realm, she had all of it. She needed to. She ground herself against him, driving him deeper into her, curling her legs under his to lock him in. She scratched her nails up his chest, red welts in their wake, until she held his biceps against the bed. He watched her bite her lip, her eyes boring into his.

"Give it to me," he rasped under his breath, barely audible. "Give it all to me."

She choked back a sob and thrust harder, her body curving in waves from her hips to her shoulders. Damon watched her with a new layer of love, born of admiration and heartbreak. He ached to kiss her, tease a breast, wrap his fingers around her thigh, but he couldn't bear to break her that way. Instead he watched her, mouth open and waiting, breath shallow, while she exorcised her demons. She was radiant, a goddess. She would make the most perfect vampire.

Elena's rhythm – it certainly wasn't one that they shared – slowed and her thrusts became sharper. Three more and she came with a wordless yell, full of rage and violence. It seemed to unlock something in her. She collapsed beside him, wailing in grief, and now he knew she would accept his comfort, so he gathered her up and held her, rocking her while she wept. If she had had the presence of mind to notice, she would have found tears on his face, too.

(A/N: Good luck tomorrow night, everybody. See you on the other side.)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

From the moment he collected them that the morning to their arrival at the doorstep of the boarding house, Elijah and Damon wordlessly fought over Elena. She was seated between them, walked between them, and had to contend with their testosterone-fueled tug of war the entire trip. Few words were exchanged.

In the car on the way to the airport, Damon whispered into her ear, "How do you feel?"

Elena blushed. "Embarrassed, but better."

Damon wrapped his hand tenderly but possessively around the far side of Elena's neck so he could whisper even more softly. "You never need to feel embarrassed with me. Especially about last night."

Elijah, seated on the other side of Elena, raised an eyebrow.

* * *

><p>On the plane, Elena leaned her head on Damon's shoulder and actually fell asleep for a few hours, sheer exhaustion beating out her anxiety. Damon took the opportunity to gloat across the aisle in Elijah's direction. "You'll see, Salvatore," Elijah crooned. "Good things come to those who wait."<p>

* * *

><p>Elijah had a small limousine waiting for them. "This way, Mr. Mikaelson." Elijah wrapped an arm around Elena's shoulders. Elena didn't resist, but took Damon's hand and squeezed, pulling him along as he reluctantly followed. The ride to Mystic Falls was deathly quiet. They pulled up to the boarding house right behind Bonnie's car; Caroline's was already parked close to the front door.<p>

Lucy opened Bonnie's passenger door and Elijah was beside her immediately, helping her out of the car with a gentlemanly hand and thanking her for coming on such short notice. Bonnie mouthed "Are you okay?" to Elena across the driveway, to which Damon barked, "She's bait, how do you think she is?"

Elena shushed him. "Don't take it out on her. None of this is her fault."

The sting of blame from last night echoed in his ears – his fault. But then she took his hand again and squeezed, and her beautiful brown eyes repeated again her wordless entreaty: trust me.

Damon nodded, squinting flirtatiously to lighten her mood. But the gesture came out hollow. They both knew what was coming: the hurried discussion and execution of a plan, an unpredictable showdown with Klaus… and, to start it off, their fraught reunion with Stefan.

Caroline opened the door and squealed at the sight of Elena, tugging her away from Damon and drawing her into a tight hug. She ushered everyone into the house with a bubbly hospitality that wasn't hers to offer. Inside stood Tyler, Ric, and behind them, facing the fire, Stefan.

Damon knew Elena needed to greet his brother. He knew Stefan needed to hold her. There was no ignoring how much they had missed each other. He forced himself to linger by the door, rifling through junk mail, making it painfully obvious he was not paying attention, so that Elena could go to him. But he heard Stefan's voice, and as soon as she took a few steps in that direction, Damon had to watch.

Elena's body relaxed as she approached Stefan. He opened his arms, wary but somehow still hopeful, and she pressed herself against him. Damon took a slow, steady breath, bracing for the inevitable. She held Stefan in a long embrace, her heartbeat slowing. Damon heard the quiet hum of Stefan's relief, and hers too. _Are you okay? I missed you. Me too._ Stefan pulled back to look into her eyes and Damon froze, chiding himself for watching this but unable to tear his eyes away. Elena nodded, Stefan smiled, and then she kissed him. Damon swallowed, wanting desperately to look away, or interrupt, but he couldn't. His Elena, finally his after so long, kissing his brother. His heart felt like ice.

He had lied to Stefan. It never got easier. And now it was a thousand times harder. Now that he knew what she was giving him.

* * *

><p>The planning went easily – too easily. Bonnie and Lucy were ready to follow Elijah's instructions and only needed a few last ingredients to do their desiccation spell. Caroline and Tyler were excited to help, although Damon was still not certain Tyler had really broken his sire bond. Why wasn't everyone more concerned about that? He filed that away for when he worked out his own supporting, fix-everything-in-the-nick-of-time plan. Elena argued against letting Ric and Jeremy help, for their own safety, but they were adamant. Caroline and Bonnie assured everyone that Ric could be trusted, and that his control over his psychotic alter ego was strengthening steadily, so that now he could suppress it when he felt it begin to overtake him. Of course, this meant they still hadn't found the missing white oak stake, but they were no longer worried that Ric would snap and use it against them. Stefan brooded and nodded uselessly. Elena couldn't look Damon in the eye as she agreed to be handed over to Klaus, just for a split second, so his guard would be down. Then the rest of the gang, including Elijah and Rebekah (who Elijah had to vouch for, since she was nowhere to be found), would grab him. Bonnie and Lucy would do the spell (very quickly, Damon reminded them), that would literally suck all of the moisture from his body until he was nothing but a crisp shell. Tyler was happy to donate chains to the effort, and a hint of a smile crossed Elijah's face when he volunteered an empty coffin.<p>

The only argument came when Elijah insisted he and Rebekah would bring Klaus with them when they left town. Damon couldn't keep quiet about that. "No, no, no, not a chance. You'll just reconstitute Powder Klaus in a fit of brotherly love and we'll have to start all over again. Nope," he argued, "Klaus stays here, with us."

Elijah bristled. "Despite the fact that I have saved your life countless times, and despite the fact that your" - he glanced at Stefan, choosing his words for maximum impact – "_beloved_ Elena trusts me, you continue to demonstrate a disturbing lack of faith. Be smart, Damon. Why would I go to the trouble of tracking you down and enlisting Lucy's help if I didn't intend the solution to be final?"

Elena, who had been seated alone in the center of the large sofa, crossed the room to stand beside Damon. She wrapped her hand around his elbow and his eyes darted almost apologetically to Stefan, who looked away. If they managed to get through this unscathed, they would have to figure this out. "It's in Damon's best interest to keep Klaus safe," Elena began, "just as much as yours. He would never risk wiping out his bloodline with some rash act. But unlike you, Elijah, everyone here is invested in keeping Klaus contained. Trust goes both ways. Unless you trust us to keep him entombed, we won't cooperate with you on this. We'll come up with some other way to remove the threat he holds over us, one you might not endorse." She held his gaze, her head held high.

Damon was impressed.

Elijah was silent as he swirled bourbon in his crystal glass. He turned his eyes to the fireplace and Damon could almost hear the swirl of scheming in his mind. There was no way he was going through with this plan without a safeguard at each step. He couldn't risk it. Not again.

"Agreed," Elijah said. "Midnight."

That gave them two hours. The plan was in motion.

* * *

><p>Caroline and Tyler left with Jeremy and Ric to collect the chains and prepare the cave. Elijah left to get Rebekah. Bonnie and Lucy left to find a few supplies and set up for the spell. Elena, Stefan, and Damon were alone.<p>

The first element of the plan was to draw Klaus out. Elena texted Klaus: _Tired of running, got away. Pick me up at Tyler's cave, midnight. We can leave tonight if you promise not to harm the people I love._ Damon's eyes widened at the obvious set up, sure she had given them all away, but moments later, Klaus texted back: _ It's a deal, darling._ She read it out loud, eyelids heavy, no hint of pride at her small victory, and dropped her phone on the couch. "I need a shower." She shook her head and padded up the stairs. Damon heard her open his door – it didn't creak like Stefan's – and go inside. He smirked at Stefan.

"Are you honestly gloating about this?" Stefan asked, his voice low.

Damon didn't want to admit how broken and upset his brother appeared. He wanted to rail at him for not backing him up himself, for not coming up with anything better than this terrible plan, for letting Elena kiss him right in front of him, again. Stefan's ache was palpable, but he was too fired up to back down. "The shower is a metaphor. Read a book," Damon mocked.

"Dammit, I don't care about which shower she chose," Stefan spat back at him.

He was a live wire, clearly. But Damon wasn't willing to tread lightly. There was too much hurt to repay. "Then what is your problem?"

Stefan turned away to refill his glass. "This plan sucks."

"No thanks to you. You didn't say a word the whole time."

Stefan whirled around, brimming with accusation. "Because I have no idea what to do!"

Damon easily matched his intensity. "Run! We could all run!"

"Forever?" Stefan turned away again, draining his glass in one long gulp.

Damon paced. He was just getting going. This was the conversation he had hoped to have with the rest of the gang. "Okay, or, and I know this is maybe a little too much for you to contemplate, but how about getting our stake back from Ric?"

"As you are well aware, brother," Stefan droned patronizingly, "using it would kill us if Klaus started our bloodline, and we don't know who did."

"But doesn't Jeremy talk to dead people, like the kind who know things about exactly this?"

Stefan's smile was sad and defeated. Damon detected a hint of blame that he had left Stefan to take care of all of this on his own. "He tried to find Rose, but he couldn't contact her."

Damon took a breath. He remembered the beautiful hill from her dream that last day. The warm sun. The clean smell of grass. Of course she had found peace on the other side. He had seen to it. "So that's it?"

Stefan stared into the flames. "That's it."

"Then we have to protect Elena. She can't go." He imagined seeing a last glimpse of her as Klaus whisked her away into the dark. He cringed at the stabbing pain of knowing he would never be able to find her or save her.

"Klaus will take her then for sure. He's been threatening to since you left. You're lucky Rebekah convinced him not to go looking for you."

"Dammit, Stefan!" Damon stopped in front of the fire. It was time. He was simply unwilling to leave the best option off the table. "She needs vampire blood. So she can save herself if – when – this doesn't go well. Any element of this could go wrong and she could be dead in an instant. Too fast to stop it."

Stefan sat down in the deep arm chair and tried to drain his already empty glass. "She doesn't want it. Which you already know."

"She doesn't have to want it," Damon growled.

"You're going to force her? Again? After everything that's happened between you two?"

"Yes, _especially_ after everything. I can't lose her. How can you?"

"I respect her decision," Stefan whispered pointedly.

Damon gritted his teeth. Sometimes Saint Stefan took it too far. "It's a shitty decision."

"Doesn't matter. It's what she wants."

"And what about what I want, what you want?" Damon exploded. "Or do you? I mean, you've got about as much fight in you as a hamster. Am I the only one here who loves her?"

"That's cruel."

"It's observant. If you love her, fight for her!" Adrenaline and blood roared in Damon's ears.

Stefan grew maddeningly quiet. "Not about this. This is for her to decide. I won't let you do this to her."

"Why, so you can carve 'Elena Gilbert, Maker of Stupid Decisions' on her tombstone? Christ, Stefan, this is not what love looks like!"

Stefan threw his glass across the room, suddenly enraged. "This is exactly what love looks like, Damon, only you wouldn't recognize it! You're confusing love with lust and control. You just wanted her. It was never about love, admit it. You've never once respected a single decision she's made, or given her the space to be who she needed to be. You've pushed her, taunted her, manipulated her… just like Katherine. You have no idea what love is -"

Damon punched him. It felt good.

"I'm right," Stefan murmured, rubbing his bruised jaw.

It was everything Damon could do not to punch him again, but Stefan was wrong and he needed to tell him so. "You don't know anything about me and Elena. In your wildest nightmares you can't imagine what happened between us while we were gone. What she gave me. What I gave her. What we were for each other. Even if she didn't want to turn, I know she would forgive me. She loves me. And she would see that I did it because I love her."

Damon could see the hurt in Stefan's eyes, even as shook his head at the words. "You're delusional, Damon."

"I will never understand," Damon continued, "how you can let her go. I'll never be able to."

"Because I love her enough to live an entire existence without her if that's what she wants from me," Stefan said.

Damon huffed. "Don't give me that crap. It would kill you if she died tonight. It would kill me."

"I know," Elena said from the top of the stairs. Her hair was dripping wet, leaving dark patches on the shoulders of her shirt. "Stefan will always respect my wishes about this, because of you." Damon watched her as she made her way down the stairs and sat back down in the same spot in the middle of the couch. "He's never turned anyone, never forced anyone to become a vampire. Did you know that? Not since you. He needed you, in that moment, more than he ever had before. He couldn't let you go. It was incredibly selfish of him. You weren't going to transition, not without Katherine, and he couldn't stand the thought of a future without you. So he forced you. He didn't want to lose you. And what did you do? Without a moment's pause to consider why he had done it, you tormented him, hated him, refused to forgive him, for more than a century." She glanced at Stefan, whose face was open and surprised, then at Damon, whose scowl had dissipated a bit. "He learned his lesson."

"Fine, then this doesn't have to have anything to do with him. It's between you and me." Damon's eyes turned dark and pleading as he knelt in front of her. He was willing to take the risk. "You don't have to forgive me. Just as long as you're still alive, Elena."

"Stefan knows how devastating that is. He doesn't want that for you. That's why he won't let you force me either." Elena took Damon's hands in hers, her expression intense and serious. "But you don't have to. I'm ready."

Stefan was at her side in an instant. "No, Elena, don't, I know you don't want this -"

She closed her eyes, smiling faintly. "I'm ready to at least accept that it's a better choice than being a perennial blood bag and danger magnet."

Damon sat beside her, still clutching her hands. Faced with her acquiescence, it was too tragic not to argue. "You don't have to do this."

"I don't want to lose you." She turned to Stefan. "Either of you. I don't know what our future holds, but I can't let you go."

It was the natural prelude to a kiss, but they were paralyzed by the awkwardness and newness of their situation. Elena reached for Stefan's hand and brought it to rest next to Damon's on her lap. Finally, Damon broke the silence with his usual bravado. "Well, since bunnies may not get the job done, Light Roast over here should sit this one out." He wasted no time biting into his wrist.

Stefan was crestfallen. "He's right."

Elena lifted Stefan's wrist up to his mouth. "Both of you. If I die tonight, I want both of you to turn me." She looked back at Damon, who responded with a slow nod. There was no turning back from this if things fell apart tonight. He knew that their bond, even without any siring effect, would be fully equal. The triangle would be inescapable, as long as the three of them lived. But despite what Stefan had said about the way he loved her, despite how desperately he wished to have her entirely to himself, Damon wanted to give her what she needed right now. And the rest they would leave to the future.

As Stefan let his fangs sink into his skin, she took Damon's wrist in her mouth, sucking at the warm, thick blood. Her eyes closed, but his didn't. He watched her, memorizing this moment. He had imagined it, imagined her choosing him – albeit without Stefan sitting beside her - since they had danced together in the sun only a year before. It felt like a lifetime. The fire brightened her olive skin and cast spidery shadows where her eyelashes almost met her cheeks. In his mind, he vowed to be whatever she needed for as long as she allowed him to try. Longer.

She pulled away, her mouth coated in a thin layer of red, and smiled at Damon before closing her eyes and bringing Stefan's wrist to her lips. Stefan didn't watch her. He locked eyes with Damon instead.

(A/N: Sometimes stories take you in directions you don't expect. This one may go in a very strange direction soon. Not sure. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this triangle, Elena turning or not... there's much to be discussed. Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and alerts - and for reading!)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Damon did not leave Elena's side the entire time she was dead.

He punched Stefan twice and drank most of a bottle of Maker's Mark, delivered by Alaric about an hour into his vigil. Elijah sat with him for a while. So did Jeremy. Damon didn't speak to either of them. He couldn't. What if it didn't work? He knew it was irrational, but what if she simply died?

* * *

><p>The element of the plan they had actually planned for worked perfectly: Bonnie and Lucy did the moisture-sucking spell exactly as it was meant to be done, though no one was prepared for the horrifying squelching sounds as it began. The rest was a free for all. Behind Alaric's back, Jeremy had discovered the stake among Jenna's old things and had entrusted it to Matt, the only person among them with an Original kill record. They were all lucky that he had, because Rebekah was not to be trusted, nor, they were soon relieved to learn, was she the one to originate their bloodline. She grabbed Elena from Elijah's (pathetically light, in Damon's fleeting opinion) grasp and held her as hostage against the witches, threatening to kill her if they didn't stop the spell on Klaus. It occurred to Damon that this had been Elijah's plan all along, to give Rebekah a chance to kill off the hybrid-making machine. Bonnie faltered to see Elena in danger but Lucy was already too deeply into the spell, and that was when the squelching began. Rebekah, enraged and vengeful, twisted Elena's neck like a screw-top.<p>

The roar that came from Damon was primal. As Elena fell in a clump on the ground, Damon launched himself at Rebekah, no thought of his own life or even that of his brother. She was ready for him. Matt, mad with sudden grief at Elena's death, buried the stake in Rebekah's back as her fingers were tearing through Damon's sternum. Damon felt the flames ignite in his chest for a split second until he realized what was happening and pushed her sizzling body off of him.

Elijah watched her burn, expressionless. Damon's eyes narrowed at the irony that the only one of them kind-hearted enough to have comforted Elijah for his loss was dead. Caroline, ever practical and socially fearless, asked Elijah if he knew who began their bloodline. "It wasn't her," Elijah responded coolly, his glance riveted to the flames in front of him. "Your pointless little lives aren't over. Yet." And then he was gone.

Bonnie collapsed on her knees in front of Elena. Matt and Jeremy joined her there. Alaric's hand came to rest on Damon's shoulder, and Damon could hear the tearful hitch in his friend's breath. Caroline wrapped her arms around Bonnie's shoulders and caught Stefan's eye. Damon watched, hollow, as Stefan shook his head so slightly at her that no human could have seen it, but she understood what he meant. A tear fell as she sighed with relief and sadness, and when he motioned toward Jeremy, she nodded her agreement that she'd prepare him for what Elena was about to become.

Matt deserved more praise than he got. Eventually Stefan and Tyler clapped him on the shoulder. Damon should have thanked him for saving his life, but he couldn't think of anything but dead Elena. He didn't care when Elijah left, or Jeremy, who was dragged away by Alaric, Caroline, Tyler, and Matt. Lucy steadied a shaken Bonnie as they walked away.

Stefan and Damon were the last two left. "I'll get the car," the younger brother offered.

"I'm going to carry her home," Damon said.

* * *

><p>In the back of his mind, Damon knew what to prepare for when she finally awoke. He expected she would remember the time he declared his love for her, only to compel her to forget it. He had no idea what she'd make of the memory of meeting him first, a memory he himself cherished. He had been so close to telling her, dozens of times, most recently in that hotel room in Nebraska when, once again, her argument for staying faithful to Stefan hinged on having met him first. But he couldn't tell her, couldn't even compel her to remember; it felt like a coward's move. Instead, he held it close to his heart - the gleam of innocence in her eye, the unguarded flirtation she would never again be able to share with him. As the transition took her, his compulsions would drain away. But Damon couldn't guess how she would react. The best he could do was hope for her forgiveness.<p>

Elena awoke on the soft rug in front of the fire, her head cradled in Damon's lap. She gasped and Damon felt like he could finally breathe again. Stefan sighed beside him and leaned toward her.

Her eyes darted wildly between the two brothers. "Damon, Stefan. I'm… oh my god."

Whatever argument Damon had been subconsciously preparing to convince Elena to complete the transition was entirely unnecessary. Once Stefan assured her everyone she cared about was safe and healthy, she was all business.

"Okay, let's get this over with. Blood bag, please." She held her open hand out to Stefan, almost challenging him to suggest taking a walk outside to look for an animal to drain. But they all knew Stefan would always give her what she wanted.

"I'll be right back."

As Stefan left the room, Damon watched her take in the newness of her senses, the sparkle and shadow of ordinary light. But her eyes shot to his when Stefan opened the basement door.

"I can hear him." She shook her head in disbelief. "Perfectly."

"Yup." He listened with her as Stefan took the wooden steps down to the gritty dirt floor. She cringed at the squeak of the cooler, the squish of the blood as Stefan piled four bags in his arms, another, faster creak and slam as the cooler shut, and Stefan's steps, slower and slower, up the stairs.

"It's amazing. That's a floor away, on the… on the other side of the house," Elena stammered.

"Yup."

"You can hear everything that happens here."

He could see that she was putting it together. He raised an eyebrow to drive the point home. "No matter how quiet or muffled."

Elena's hand flew to her mouth. "You could hear us!"

Their eyes were locked. Here came the first wave of real understanding. Now she could begin to fathom what Damon had gone through for her. "Every moan and thrust."

Just that moment, Stefan reluctantly stepped into the room. Elena whirled around at him, unused to her vampire speed. "How could you? You knew how Damon felt about me and you knew he could hear everything! _Everything_! How could you be so cruel as to… to fuck me just down the hall? What kind of brother are you?"

"Elena," Stefan started weakly, "don't." He glanced at Damon, pleading silently for some sort of support.

Damon smirked back at him, arms folded across his chest. "She's right. It was a dick move. No pun intended."

"Not helping," Elena hissed over her shoulder at him. Then her face changed as she smelled the blood. The veins wormed under her cheeks; the whites of her eyes turned a deep red. "What is that?" she asked, barely keeping herself together.

Damon's hands were on her hips in an instant, reassuring her. "You're just hungry. Here, Stefan," he said, motioning for him to toss over a bag. He caught it easily in mid-air and ripped the stopper out of the tubing with his teeth. "Drink."

She didn't hesitate. Every gulp he watched Elena take sent sympathetic shivers down his spine; he knew Stefan felt them too. She drank all four bags, slowing only slightly with the last one, finally savoring the taste, the feeling. She sat back down on the couch to recover, her eyes closed against the whirlwind of sensory stimulation outside her body, focusing on the changes occurring inside her. Minutes passed, and her eyes slowly opened. She turned toward Damon, her gaze cast down at his knees.

Elena's voice was small, contained. "I need some time to myself. I want to go home."

"It's not a good idea," Stefan volunteered carefully. "You can't trust yourself yet. It takes practice."

She was adamant. "I need to see Jeremy."

Damon's hand settled on her thigh. "You'll eat him."

She shook her head like she was trying to dislodge the image. "No way."

"Are you willing to risk it?"

Elena took a deep, unnecessary breath. "Fine. I just want to… I don't know. I need to lie down."

Simultaneously, each of the two brothers stood as if to offer her his bedroom. Stefan rolled his eyes but Damon laughed sharply. "We are one step away from a TLC reality show."

Stefan shot him a withering look.

"I'll be in Rebekah's room." She was upright in an instant. Damon grinned bemusedly at her disorientation. Watching a baby vampire was at least periodically entertaining. "Shut up," she muttered at him. But as she walked past him toward the stairs, she mouthed the words _I remember_, and with an intimacy that had been so familiar only a day before, her fingers traced across his lips and along his cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_(Just one or two more chapters, I think. I have a few enticing scenes left before I can finish with an elegant dismount. Huh – I really thought this thing would be a one-shot. Thanks to all who have encouraged me with favoriting, following, and reviews, and a special thanks to CreepingMuse, whose detailed reviews keep me pointed in the right direction.)_

"I'm losing her," Stefan said, wandering aimlessly in front of the fire.

Damon pointed upstairs, eyes wide in warning.

"I know she can hear me," Stefan answered.

Damon sat on the couch with a dismissive shrug. "Okay, so she's… changing. Kind of to be expected."

"She's slipping away from me, Damon." Why was his younger brother so upset? Elena was fine, essentially. She was proving remarkably adaptive. Why persist in the doom and gloom? As far as Damon was concerned, things were looking up.

"So go talk to her. Or just keep talking about her down here and she'll show up eventually and argue with you."

Stefan stood with a deep sigh. "No, I have to get out of here. I'm going to check on Jeremy, let him know Elena's doing better." He walked to the door slowly, like he wanted someone to stop him. Damon smiled at the back of his head but didn't say a thing. Let him figure this out on his own, he thought. Stefan hesitated in the doorway, but then closed the door behind him without turning back.

The house was dead silent.

* * *

><p>Once it was clear that Elena wasn't coming down, Damon went upstairs and took a shower, stretching extra sexily under the water, hoping she'd be standing in the doorway when he opened his eyes. No luck. He put on a new pair of jeans and waited.<p>

All at once, Damon heard the front door opening, skin sizzling, and Elena growling, "dammit!" The door slammed closed, hard. Damon was downstairs in a flash.

"Are you okay?" His fingers grazed her cheek, where the skin was already mostly healed.

"I just – my phone died." Her face contorted in a rueful smile. "Huh. You know how when someone dies you find yourself talking about stuff dying all the time? Turns out that even happens when it's you who's died. Great." Of course this girl, who had lost so many people, would notice that. "My charger is still in your car. But I forgot that -"

"—that the sun hates you? Not for long. We'll call Bonnie. She'll spell you a nice gaudy ring of your very own to be stuck with for eternity." He wiggled his ring finger at her.

Elena's brow furrowed with her refusal. "We can't, not yet. If I bit her, I just – I couldn't bear it if something happened, please," she begged.

"Okay," he said, smoothing his hands over her shoulders. "Then we'll practice tonight, at the Grill. But for now, the sun – "

"I won't forget." Her hand ghosted over her cheek, and Damon's followed, resting there as he tilted her face up to look into her eyes. "Really, how are you? Tell me."

She was quiet for a long moment. "I met you first."

Damon hazarded a sly smile. "Indeed you did." He squinted at her, poised to accept either direction the conversation went, a slap or a kiss.

"You never said a thing. You could have. You probably should have." Elena glanced at his eyes but let hers rest on his lips. "How did you know? I wanted – needed – a love that consumed me. I could feel that it was possible. Matt was predictable and safe. And then with Stefan, it felt so right, but it was the same. Safe. And after my parents' accident, I guess that's exactly what I needed."

Damon wasn't sure himself how he had recognized, that evening on the road, what would ignite Elena. But he had seen her fierce heart as clearly as if he had been staring into a mirror. "And now?"

"Now? Now I see Stefan for what he is, not what I wanted him to be. And I can finally see you for what you are, Damon. Noble and heroic."

He shook his head, finding himself almost reflexively ready to defend Stefan. It felt utterly unfamiliar to be compared to Stefan and come out on top.

Her eyes sparkled with admiration. "Listen, you told me you loved me but that Stefan deserved me. And maybe he did. But so do you."

Any thought of Stefan was eclipsed as he watched the moment he had hoped for come rushing toward him.

"I don't want to be safe anymore, Damon." Elena crushed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him. He welcomed her embrace, savoring the length of her body pressed against his. Almost immediately she pulled away, gasping at the sensation of her veins snaking down her cheeks, her fangs puncturing her gums and invading their kiss. "Sorry," she whispered.

Damon closed the space she had created and touched the point of one of her fangs with his tongue. She understood, smiling as she melted into his kiss. Blood pounded behind his eyes as what he had so carefully held back when she was human he finally let go. He was rewarded with Elena's exploring tongue scraping along his fangs in response. His breath hitched.

She found his hand behind her back and intertwined their fingers. "Upstairs," she breathed against his lips. He let himself be led at a tantalizingly slow human pace.

Behind his bedroom door, he removed her clothing layer by layer, and it was as if he was peeling away her old self. She stood taller, no hint of fear or insecurity. Her hands were hungry for his skin, but patient. He nipped and licked along her collarbone, still delicious but now without that hint of blood singing to him from beneath the surface, while he dragged her bra slowly over her arms, dropping it at their feet. She knelt before him and slowly removed his jeans, letting her fingernails scratch along his legs. A moan escaped him as she slid back up his body, both of them entirely bare.

The armchair was closest. He smirked as she pushed him gently into it, then straddled his lap. With an unguarded sigh she sank down onto him, arching her back as he pressed himself deeper into her hips. With his tongue, he traced up her center line to her neck, delighting in what Elena was just now realizing: for a vampire, every inch of skin could be as sensitive as a breast. She hummed and ground herself against him in a languid circle.

In a way, it was her first time.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be carried away by slow gripping, scratching, pressing, pulling, taste, need, and delicious strain. The texture of her straight, silky hair caught between their lips. The hardness and softness of her skin. The flex of her back. Her fingers grasping at his hair. Every time they picked up a rhythm she frustrated it.

But it had been nearly two hours since they'd been left alone, and they couldn't expect this window of opportunity to remain open indefinitely. "Stefan could get home soon," he attempted, his voice congested with need.

"Serves him right," she mumbled. Her spine tightened like a whip as she flicked her hips into his.

He breathed a light, surprised laugh against her neck. "Come with me."

Her head fell back with a groan, revealing her long, luscious neck. The scars where he had once bit her in a delusional haze had healed, as had every other trace of the ravages being the doppelganger had taken on her fragile human form. Damon could sense that one bite would take her over the edge. As his fangs pressed into the delicate skin at the base of her neck, she unwound one of his arms from her waist, puncturing the translucent bend of his elbow. The orgasm hit them like heavy ocean waves, powerful and insistent, then receding.

* * *

><p>Not long afterward, Stefan's car rumbled into the garage. From still inside the car, Stefan quietly spoke. "I'm home." It wasn't something he and Damon had always done, but when they had company, they tried to be courteous, at least. It felt oddly out of place in this situation, cheap almost. Mostly dressed now, Elena smiled at the gesture as she slipped her hair into a ponytail. But Damon's hand slipped from the bedroom door at the sound of Stefan's voice. He had the strongest feeling, a sort of premonition, that he wouldn't hear Stefan say that again for a very long time.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As they walked through the front door of the Grill, Damon took Elena's hand and held it up to his chest. She was nervous, vibrating with tension like a guitar string tuned too high. But he was bursting with pride that she was finally his and a part of him wanted everyone to know it, even as Elena was getting ready to face this first real challenge of her new life. He glanced over at Stefan, whose hands were balled into fists inside the front pockets of his leather jacket, and got a scowl in return.

Stefan leaned his head down, whispering in Elena's ear. "You don't have to do this, you know. Not right now anyway."

She surveyed the room, squeezing Damon's hand. "I want to." The brothers followed as she led them into the restaurant. Across the room at a large booth, Caroline was climbing over Tyler, arms wide, to come greet Elena, while Matt and Jeremy sat on the opposite side of the booth, peering apprehensively at the new vampire. Their table was overflowing with plates of appetizers: nachos, chicken wings, fried mozzarella sticks, potato skins.

As Caroline approached, Damon heard her murmur quietly, "don't worry, we've got you." For all her teen drama and angst, it was impossible to miss how Caroline had grown since he had first come to town and, yes, used her like a puppet. She was still a beauty queen, but now she was strong, smart, and loyal in a way that he could rely on and respect. Damon realized he was glad to have her on his side. He might even consider an apology someday. Elena closed her eyes as Caroline wrapped her arms around her. "How is she?" she asked Stefan over Elena's shoulder.

Elena pulled away. "She's fine. And she can talk," Elena chided.

Caroline bit her lip, releasing her hug but taking Elena's free hand. "I'm here for you, okay? We all are. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Elena repeated, breaking eye contact.

"Good, because we are going to have SO MUCH FUN TOGETHER!" Caroline clapped and bounced, but Elena could only offer a strained grin.

The three young men all stood as Caroline led Elena over to the table. Tyler gave her a quick hug and followed Caroline to the far end of the booth. As Matt approached, Damon stepped between them – not to protect Elena, as he so often had before, but to protect Matt.

"Hey, ladykiller," Damon said, holding his hand out to shake.

Matt took it, confused. "Um, hey."

"Elena is a bit… pointy right now. Let's save the hugging for next week, okay?" Damon smirked as Matt backed away. But Stefan rolled his eyes. He could see right through his protective gesture to the ex-boyfriend jealousy beneath it.

Jeremy sulked behind Matt. "Elena," he said, his voice breaking. "How do you feel?"

"Good, I guess." Damon knew what she was really feeling: hungry. Despite the three blood bags she downed before they left, there was nothing to match the satisfaction of fresh human blood. And it surrounded her, hot and pulsing. She was being brusque with her close friends and it was clear why: so much of her attention was devoted to not killing anyone that she couldn't muster the energy or creativity to make everyone around her feel better about the situation. The best she could do was not kill anyone, a little bit at a time, from one moment to the next.

Jeremy took a hesitant step toward Elena but Stefan pushed him away. "Damon's right, Jeremy. Be patient with her. She's not going anywhere," he assured him with only the hint of an edge.

"Ever," Matt muttered as he slid into the booth beside Caroline and Tyler. Jeremy joined him, visibly shaken by Stefan's words. On the other side of the booth, Stefan, then Elena, and finally Damon slid into their spots. Damon leaned back, draping his arm along the back of the booth as the group fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Caroline was the first to break it. "Who's hungry?"

"Me," Tyler said as he reached for a chip and tore away an enormous chunk of cheese and toppings. They all watched as he maneuvered it into his mouth.

"Dude, classy," Matt teased.

Elena reached out, pulling away an even larger chunk and stuffing it unceremoniously into her mouth, crunching loudly with her mouth half open. Caroline gasped, eyes wide, to see her normally well-behaved friend be so vulgar, but then Tyler guffawed and the relief of finally being able to laugh again cascaded through the group, first to Matt and Jeremy, then Stefan and Elena, and then, like a dam breaking, Caroline, in a fit of giggles. Damon watched them, a grin spreading across his face. Elena was lucky to have them. So was he.

After less than half an hour, Damon called an end to Elena's participation in the festivities. "Sorry, folks. Party's over. We've got places to go and witches to see."

Elena leaned into him slightly, a move that he knew meant thank you. He stood and motioned for her to slide out of the booth.

"Jeremy, we need you to go home," Stefan said as he slid out behind Elena.

"I'll be there later," Jeremy said, too dismissively for Damon's taste. There was something in Jeremy that brought out the overbearing father in Damon. What was it? Maybe he reminded Damon of himself, before the seriousness of war rubbed off on him. Or maybe Jeremy was just too much of a punk for his own good.

"Now," Damon insisted. "Bonnie's coming over to do the ring thing."

"You don't need me for that." Damon squinted at him. Was he frightened of being with Elena? He hadn't spent any time with her since she'd woken up, hadn't barged in demanding to see his sister. If it had been Damon, he would have broken down walls to be with her. What was Jeremy's problem?

Matt's face was suddenly drawn, the reality crashing in on him anew. "Jeremy, you have to invite her in."

Jeremy froze for a moment, his mouth open. "Oh. Right."

Caroline, Tyler, and Matt stayed behind as Damon led the rest of them out of the Grill. Elena's hand found Damon's before they reached the door. He squeezed. "You did it," he whispered.

* * *

><p>In the parking lot, Stefan opened the door of his little red two-seater and gestured for Elena to get in. She glanced at Damon, a kind of caution in her eyes, as she lowered herself into the seat. Stefan smugly flipped his keys around his index finger and flashed Damon a satisfied grin. It would have bothered him before, but now he sensed that she would rather be alone with him than be with anyone else, including Stefan. There was a sort of magnetic pull between the two of them, a familiar tug he recognized from watching her share it with Stefan.<p>

Jeremy petulantly took a seat in the mustang. Great, Damon thought, five minutes of uninterrupted sulking.

* * *

><p>They arrived at Elena's – now Jeremy's – house to find Bonnie waiting for them with her grimoire clutched against her chest. Before Damon even turned off the engine, Jeremy had pressed the car door open. "Let's get this over with."<p>

"You and your sister…" Damon muttered, pocketing his keys as he climbed out.

Elena squared her shoulders as she walked up to the house, Stefan trailing behind. Damon tried to decode this particular brooding look – confused? Summarily dumped? Or had they spent the short ride over surrounded by a crushing silence? His expression was inscrutable. Or perhaps Stefan was just focused on keeping Bonnie and Jeremy alive for now, as he was.

Bonnie held the grimoire like a shield against Elena.

"Hi," Elena offered.

"Hi," Bonnie breathed warily.

Jeremy tramped up the stairs to the porch, unlocked the front door, and stood in the doorway. It occurred to Damon how cruel it was that every other vampire they knew, with the exception of their crispiest enemy, was welcome at the Gilbert house except Elena. "Come on in, Elena," he mumbled, looking at no one.

"Thanks, Jer," she responded, her voice strained but warm. She squeezed his arm gently as she walked past him into the house and straight upstairs to her room. Stefan followed.

Bonnie was frozen on the porch. "After you," Damon prodded. He followed her inside and closed the door behind them.

* * *

><p>Upstairs in her room, Elena sank down onto her bed. She looked tired. Stefan perched by the window next to Jeremy, who was studying some unimportant detail out the window. Bonnie opened the grimoire on the white comforter and uncurled her right hand to reveal a small silver band.<p>

"Try this on," Bonnie said a little abruptly, holding the ring out.

Damon considered not doing this with Stefan there, but the moment was upon them and he didn't want to turn back. "Actually," he announced, "I have a ring. For Elena."

Stefan's head tilted. He had to know which ring Damon was talking about. I'm sorry brother, Damon thought as he pulled a small, shimmering ring out of the inside pocket of his jacket. It was simple and old-fashioned, a pearl surrounded by silver filigree. He had kept it hidden even when he was a young man, when he wore the Confederate gray, and after, when he fled Mystic Falls once he turned. The memory floated before his eyes of morning light glinting off of it as his mother's pale fingers pushed open the curtains next to his childhood bed. He held the ring out to Elena, his silent heart swelling with the desire to pound.

"Damon," Elena whispered as she let him press it onto her finger, her eyes glowing with delight and adoration. He couldn't look away from her, even when he heard Stefan slam her bedroom door behind him. "It's beautiful."

"It was my - our mother's," he said, nodding in the direction Stefan had gone.

"Are you sure you want me to have this? If Bonnie spells it, I won't be able to give it back to you."

Damon took the hand with the ring and kissed it softly. "It's yours now, Elena."

Bonnie coughed, interrupting their moment. "It doesn't matter which ring. Just give it to me." She held her hand open and Elena slipped it off, placing it lightly in her palm. Bonnie began to whisper under her breath, her eyes closing slowly. A few moments later, it was over. "Done." Her expression was hard but even Damon could see Bonnie's exterior was cracking.

Elena took back the ring. "Bonnie -"

"I just feel like I've lost my best friend." A tear drew a thick wet line down Bonnie's cheek.

"Bonnie, don't say that." Elena was close to breaking. He knew better than most how overwhelming the feeling of guilt was for a vampire. "I'm still me. I know it's hard to believe, but it doesn't really change us much."

"Except that you're dead, Elena," Jeremy broke in. That kid needed to be grounded in the worst way.

Damon took a menacing step in his direction. "Don't be a dick."

Elena wiped a tear away. "Do I look dead, Jeremy? I would have been if it weren't for Damon and Stefan. But now… I'm not fragile anymore. I can stay by your side, I can protect you for the rest of your life. Both of you. Don't you see? I can make sure that you're safe. Finally, I can do something to counteract all the evil I've brought into your lives."

Both girls were crying now. "Can I give you a hug?" Bonnie asked, whining with the tears. Elena nodded, grimacing against a sob, and the girls folded into the familiar embrace that had carried them through years of loss, heartache, fear, and change.

Damon knew it wasn't a good idea. Elena's body relaxed but his was instantly on high alert. To be that close to a vein was difficult for any vampire, but one less than a day old? He willed her to keep it together, and at first she seemed to be, but then she bent her neck back slightly and he knew the fangs were next. He seized Bonnie and wrenched her out of Elena's grip.

"What are you -" Bonnie began, but stopped when she saw Elena's bright red eyes. Elena pierced her own lip trying to fight the urge to bite her oldest friend.

"Oh my god," Jeremy gasped.

"Time to go," Damon called over his shoulder as he swept Elena in front of him and down the stairs.

* * *

><p>She wilted into the car, her face back to normal but her expression haunted. "I could have killed her."<p>

"But you didn't."

"I wanted to." She shook her head. "Was this a terrible mistake?"

Damon gunned the engine and pulled onto the street, eager to enfold her in the safety of his bed. Their bed. "It only feels like that right now." His hand found its reassuring perch just above her knee.

She took his hand in hers, turning it over so she could look at her new ring. "But Stefan..."

"Yes, he may be a little upset."

"I have to talk to him. So do you."

"Yeah," Damon began. "I don't know if it'll help."

* * *

><p>The boarding house was quiet. On the table by the door were two letters.<p>

_Elena,_

_I'm sorry I let you turn. I shouldn't have. But I've never been able to say no to you. I've never been strong enough. Not like Damon._

_As you change with your new life, don't for one second lose sight of him. He loves you differently than he ever loved Katherine, believe me. He loves you differently than I have loved you, I think. Maybe he loves you better. And whether you like it or not, he will safeguard the humanity that you may soon stop caring about. As time goes by, you'll miss it. He won't let it go._

_Please don't come looking for me out of guilt. Although I can't pretend that it doesn't hurt to leave you both, this is my choice. As Damon is yours. _

_I will never stop loving you._

_Damon,_

_Elena may say she loves me, but it pales compared to her love for you. And I know what it must have meant to you to give her mother's ring. I'm not going to stand in your way anymore. Not after walking these last few excruciating hours in your shoes. _

_I was never able to right the wrong I did to you when I forced you to turn. But I can give you this. I can let you go._

_If you ever need me, you know where to find me._

_Stefan_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_27 missed calls_

Tuesday 9:26pm: Answer your phone

Tuesday 9:27pm: Answer, dammit!

Tuesday 10:33pm: If I'm not allowed to go looking for him, neither are you

Tuesday 10:36pm: Do you really think this is the right time to leave me alone?

Wednesday 12:50am: Come home right now or I'm drinking your good booze. The stuff in the basement.

Wednesday 12:58am: This is what we both wanted and YOU ARE RUINING IT

Wednesday 4:11am: I'm freaking out, Damon. I can't sleep. I know this is my fault. I'm so sorry. Please come back.

Wednesday 4:23am: Where are you? Answer your phone. I miss you.

Wednesday 4:25am: Little. Red. Panties.

Wednesday 4:27am: I am a hungry baby vampire with a daylight ring and if I go on a rampage later I'm blaming you. And I'm starting with Alaric.

Wednesday 5:47am: I can't believe this is happening. Answer your phone!

Wednesday 6:20am: THIS is what I was talking about. 10 seconds of just us and you jump ship. BUMP. Answer your phone answer your phone answer your phone

Wednesday 8:56am: Caroline is here with bagels. She says you didn't call her. Right.

Wednesday 9:15am: You are a fucking liar, Damon Salvatore. I will never leave you again my ASS.

Wednesday 10:02am: Damon, I can't do this without you. Please.

* * *

><p>Stefan had outsmarted Damon by not flying out of Richmond. Once Damon finally drove to Washington, his brother was soaring over the Atlantic, he was sure. He bought a ticket for the soonest flight, but it didn't leave until noon the next day so he found a seat at a quiet gate and waited. He stared at the wall and tried to stop thinking about what his departure was doing to Elena. Her calls and texts were killing him, but she had to know it was only temporary. He didn't have a choice; Stefan had backed him into a corner.<p>

Damn Stefan for making this all about him, Damon seethed. Damn him for throwing a hissy fit, for making this melodramatic gesture to prove he was the better man. Damn him that it was working. Stefan couldn't just let Damon be happy, oh no. He couldn't just suck it up and figure out something else to do with himself in town. Damon refused to let Stefan run off to be the martyr, to hide and sulk and silently appear nobler from afar than Damon ever could up close. No, he had to bring him back.

Elijah sat down beside him just as the gate agents started to ready the flight.

"What is with you and airports?" Damon asked, rolling his eyes.

Elijah picked up Damon's phone and scrolled through Elena's texts. "Elena is a very special girl, Damon."

"Don't act like you know her," Damon spat. He was too raw to be witty. Elijah would have to settle for irritated.

"I wish I knew her better. But I haven't been as lucky as you." Damon chafed at Elijah's patronizing tone while Elijah read the texts he couldn't bring himself to look at. "Poor girl. She thinks this is her fault."

Damon fought the urge to snatch his phone back. "She's a martyr, like my brother." A pang of guilt stung him as he pictured Elena taking this on herself. She thought this was her fault? Fucking Stefan.

"Intriguing the way people change. Now that she's a vampire, she doesn't appear to want him anymore. It appears," Elijah insisted, "that she has chosen you outright. I assume Stefan left when he heard?"

He really didn't want to talk about this, but the words spilled out. "I gave her our mother's ring. She took it, he left, end of story. Except for the part where I drag him back and break his nose." Damon's head was a mess. He couldn't even clearly describe why he was going after Stefan at this point. It had seemed rational when he crumpled the note and stormed out the night before. Now he could barely follow his own logic.

"I remember how Katherine changed. She was so flirtatious when I first met her. You can imagine." Damon glared at the planes, willing Elijah to shut the fuck up. "I had vowed, after Tatia, never to love any woman Niklaus chose. But with Katherine I couldn't help myself. I begged her to escape with me, knowing how Niklaus intended to use her, but she wouldn't. Her silly young heart chose Niklaus and his pretended affection. Even then I tried to save her, but she took matters into her own hands. You know the story."

"I don't actually care," Damon muttered. "In case you were wondering."

"Niklaus was enraged. While he traveled to Bulgaria to exact his revenge, he sent me off to find her. I was so hurt by her rejection that I had every intention of doing as he asked."

Damon looked away, adopting the most uninterested pose he could.

"She found me first, to my surprise, and she told me that she loved me."

"Yeah, she does that," Damon groaned.

Elijah nodded. "It was a second chance, Damon. She had changed. As a vampire, her love was as fervent as mine. But could I forsake my brother, who I had pledged to support so long ago? Who I loved? Could I spend an eternity parted from him?" He fell silent for a moment. Damon hoped he was done. No such luck. "I turned my back on her. I broke her heart, Damon, and my brother never even knew the sacrifice I made for him."

"Believe me, Katherine wasn't worth it. She was just lying to protect herself," Damon said, adjusting his shirt as he stood.

"You're wrong. You met her after centuries of hiding. She had to learn manipulation and survival. She wasn't always the devastating woman you knew."

Damon needed to board the plane, but Elijah was still holding his phone hostage.

"Damon, you are lucky. Elena loves only you now and Stefan has graciously stepped aside. You don't have to choose between them, yet you still are. Which of you is the martyr?" Elijah sighed, finally handing Damon his phone. "Or maybe you're just afraid of how much you'll miss him."

Damon's mouth went slack. Bullseye.

* * *

><p>Wednesday 12:05pm: Coming home.<p>

(A/N: That may have been slightly off-canon for Elijah, but I've always been drawn to the tantalizing possibility of similarities between the brothers' stories. I just can't seem to stop writing this story. Thanks, as always, for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following!)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_(My thanks to all of my readers. It has been such a pleasure to write this story and to share it with you. I think it's done now. I have a new one ready to post in the next few days – "Make Me Forget" – and I'm working on more. I might even be interested in a D/E-centered request or prompt, who knows? Stay tuned and stay in touch.)_

On the way back from the airport, Damon worked out scene after scene, trying to envision what he might find when he got home. Would she be angry? He could handle her aggression. Would she be hungry, still unsure about her new vampire urges? He knew how to guide her. Would she even be there at all? He could find her. He could convince her to come back.

He would make it up to her. It might take time, but he would make up for this.

But when he got out of the car, she was standing in the doorway, her eyes red and tired from crying, her hands limp at her sides. It crushed his already too sore heart. "Damon," she croaked as she reached her arms up to enfold him. He clutched her close. He hadn't realized how desperately he had needed her arms around him, needed to drown in her sweet, lavender scent. He should have guessed that the best antidote for the pain of Stefan's departure was Elena.

Her tears moistened his cheek as she pressed her face against his. Stefan would never have hurt her like this, he thought, the familiar combination of jealousy and self-loathing cutting into his fragile calm. But she was there, finding his hand, silently tugging him to the couch, dragging her fingertips along his arm as she left the room with a wistful smile.

The house felt emptier now that Stefan was gone.

Elena brought him a glass of blood and sat beside him, stretching out her long legs to reach his lap. He let his left hand fall protectively over them.

"I didn't want to let him go, Elena." It was almost an apology; it was an explanation, at least.

"But you came back without him."

"Bringing him back would have been selfish."

She leaned forward, turning his face toward hers with an open palm. He knew from her slight pout and a faint squint in her eyes that she understood him. Of course she did. She missed Stefan, too. She gave him a gentle kiss, lightly stroking the side of his face.

He let his hand glide up and down her shin and, when she let him go, downed the blood she had brought. He could use about twelve more bags but now wasn't the time. Now was the time to make up for leaving her. Now was the time to begin to earn the trust she had given him.

* * *

><p>Now, after a year of quiet mornings and fevered nights, of yelling and comfort, of two fierce hearts fighting to stay together, Elena's face bore no reminder at all of Katherine or his past. (Well, maybe Stefan, a little.) Now, Elena was his future.<p>

He hated to wake her this morning. It was a secret pleasure of his to sit back against the headboard and watch her sleep after the sun rose in the morning. Even after a full night's sleep, with tangled hair and creases pressed into her face, her beauty stunned him.

But today he would forego his morning vigil. "Elena, wake up," he whispered in her ear.

She pulled the pillow over her head.

"I have a surprise for you," he sang.

"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

He dropped the airplane ticket on her bare stomach. "Paper."

* * *

><p>Damon introduced Elena to the strange, beautiful city of Florence and she fell in love with it, just as he had when he first visited as a young vampire. The charming dissonance of ancient and modern, young and eternal felt like home to him. She felt it too.<p>

On the morning of their last day there, Damon arranged – compelled – a private viewing of the Uffizi art gallery. It was still distracting for Elena to be around so many people in one place and he wanted her to really enjoy everything the gallery had to offer. She was immediately drawn to the enormous Titian canvases.

But he couldn't enjoy them with her. "I need to take care of something today. Alone."

"What is it?"

He knew she trusted him, knew he should keep this secret from her. He flashed his most flirtatious smirk as he lifted her hand to meet his lips, kissing the pearl on her ring. "I'll meet you tonight on the Ponte Vecchio. You'll love it."

* * *

><p>Damon drove along back roads, the once familiar route unfolding slowly in his mind. Flat plains gave way to rolling hills. New homes built to resemble the old Tuscan villas he remembered dotted the landscape; large family estates he had visited in their prime stood old and decaying. Returning was never easy for a vampire.<p>

Elena would love it here. Someday he would bring her. But not this time. Not yet.

Damon and Stefan's father had told them about a sprawling vineyard and imposing villa in Tuscany that had belonged to their family many generations before they were born. It was their mother's dream to buy it back and restore it, but she died too young to make even the first attempt. So Damon had taken it upon himself to recover the Salvatore villa early in the twentieth century. He even did some of the work himself, traveling across Italy to find a perfect slab of marble, carting back hundreds of old tomes from dusty archives to fill the library. The villa became his refuge. And during one of their short, fraught periods of camaraderie, he invited Stefan to share it with him.

On the back balcony, overlooking fields of grapevines, Stefan was waiting. His baby brother looked good, actually. Healthy. Grounded.

Stefan's face lit up when he saw him. He handed Damon a wineglass half full of deep red liquid. Anyone else would have assumed it was the local vintage. In a way, it probably was. "Welcome back, brother."

"Always love coming back to the old family compound," Damon said, accepting the glass and taking in the familiar view. "Tuscany agrees with you."

"Yup," Stefan nodded, his eyes returning to the rolling hills surrounding them.

"I can't stay long."

"I figured. But it's good to see you again. I really missed you."

Damon stared intently at the blood in his glass. "Yup." Why was it so hard to say? "Me too." That was close, anyway. He couldn't lift his eyes but he just knew Stefan was grinning.

"How is she?"

"She's good," he responded quickly, hoping that would satisfy him.

"I want to know."

Damon leaned against the iron railing and took a swig of blood. "She's wonderful, Stefan," he began, defeated on Stefan's behalf. "She's happy, carefree, loving. Being a vampire suits her."

Stefan maintained eye contact, seemingly by force of will. "Good. Good for her. Good for you."

"See, this is why I didn't want to -"

"No, it's fine," Stefan interrupted, joining him at the railing. "I don't want you to worry about me. I'm fine. Of course I miss her, Damon. I still wonder what it would have been like if things had been different. But it's okay. I'm okay now."

Damon breathed in the warm Tuscan air, scented with lavender. Now the scent was inseparable from thoughts of Elena. The memory overwhelmed him suddenly of the scent of lavender from Elena's wet hair in Nebraska. That was the beginning. By all rights, he should have told Stefan about Klaus's plan and allowed him to save the day. He knew what he was doing. Damon may have kept her away from Klaus at a critical moment, but he had really stolen Elena from Stefan, and they all knew it.

Damon had one more thing to do before he left. The hardest thing of all. Do it, he chided himself. It's why you came. Just tell him. It won't kill you. "Stefan, I'm sorry." He didn't need to say for what. Stefan could take his pick.

They stood side by side, sharing the weight of a century and a half of brotherhood and rivalry.

"I forgive you, Damon." And what did Stefan forgive him for? It didn't matter. All of it.

He held his mostly empty glass up and Damon clinked it.

* * *

><p>Elena was waiting in the small piazza on the Ponte Vecchio, just as Damon had suggested. Between the streetlamps hung strings of peach-colored lights. It was late, but Florence only woke up at night. A trio of folk musicians played well-worn instruments in the corner, under an old, twisted tree.<p>

She leaned back against the short stone wall that lined the edge of the unique bridge's square, swaying to the music. The flowing shadows over her long, white linen dress appeared pink in the light. The light breeze danced with a few strands of her hair.

He resisted the magnetic pull toward her, watching her from the edge of the old bridge, letting pedestrians stroll between them, arm in arm. He was just settling in to wax poetic about hope and forgiveness and home when she saw him and her smile made his stone heart flip in his chest. She skipped and danced over to him, beaming. "You're back! The Uffizi today – Damon, you shouldn't have. It was incredible." She dragged him back to the piazza and onto a makeshift dance floor already occupied by several older couples.

He swept her up in a kiss.

Her smile was tender, compassionate. "How was it?" They both knew she meant 'he.'

"It was good. Next time, would you come along?"

"Next time."

They swayed to the music. He gazed around them at the old couples, hands intertwined, gently holding each other, and still in love after fifty, sixty years. It was comforting to see love last, even on the devastatingly short scale of a human life. Elena watched him watching them. "What is it?"

"They've loved each other for a long time."

"Yeah, we'll beat 'em."

"We sure will," he said, spinning her into the night.

_The end._


End file.
